Luna Lovegood and the Completely Irrelevant Tampon
by Schlongs and Padfood
Summary: Harry Potter is dead! Can Luna find her Tampons on time? No one cares! Because that has absolutely nothing to do with the plot(even though there is no plot.) Er..read on, brave soldier.
1. Wanker

Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter. We are not making any money from this- (that would be nice, though). The only thing we own is our ideas. Yepp.  
  
Harry narrowed his disturbingly green eyes. Once again, he and The-One-Who-Has-An-Annoyingly-Long-Hyphenated-Name were at a fight to the death. This was probably untrue, however, seeing as their previous six fight-to-the-deaths never ended in either one dying. Usually a random passerby ended up dying, like Cedric Diggory and Michael Jackson.   
  
"You'll not get away with this, Voldemort!" Harry hissed. He had a speech all planned and ready on cue-cards in his pocket, just waiting for the correct time. Voldemort inexplicably winced at his own name.  
  
"Nonsense, Potter! I will kill you this time!"   
  
"Never!"  
  
"I will stop you, Voldemort!"  
  
Harry blinked. "That's my line."  
  
Voldemort blushed, flipping a hand nonchalantly and downcasting his eyes. "Yes, yes, of course. Silly me, silly me." He coughed. "As I was saying… prepare to meet your doom, Potter! Just like your parents!"  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed moreso to the point it was incredible he could see. No one dissed his parents and lived to tell the tale! That is, excluding Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Voldemort on several occasions and everyone else who had ever insulted his parents.   
  
"Ohh, now it's personal!"  
  
This caught Voldemort offguard, as he titled his head. "Wasn't it always?"  
  
"Hmm. I suppose it was." Harry returned to glaring. He had enough of this. It was time to do something. Raing his wand, he hissed, "Randomium Latinus Wordia!"   
  
Inside Voldemort's head, every Britney Spears song ever written began playing. He-Who-Should-Always-Be-Named screamed and fell over, clutching the sides of his head. This was so horrible! It was worse than the cruciatus curse! It was worse than one thousand nails drived into your head at once! It was worse than Peter Pettigrew in a thong!   
  
Harry cackled and did his I'm A Happy Little Potter dance. Strangely, it was a dance that had been choreographed by Dudley and involved much ass-shaking. When he got to the part of the dance that involved the splits, he leapt up triumphantly and came down with his legs spread. He did not anticipate, however, that the writhing Voldemort would have enough sense left to stick his foot out where it would hurt most.  
  
"THE PAIIIIN!" Harry fell over, clutching his crotch. Voldemort glared, then winced because of the horrible Britney-singing. The whines of his enemy giving him enough strength to think… kind of… Voldemort pointed his wand at himself and hissed "Britanayus Desistium!" The singing stopped.  
  
Standing and brushing himself off, Voldemort stared down at Harry.   
  
"Ha-ha," Voldemort said, in a way that much reminded Harry of the Simpsons. Harry glared, staggering to his feet.  
  
"Wanker."  
  
Voldemort looked truthfully offended.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry hissed, wand pointing at the unsuspecting Voldemort.  
  
It was then something no one expected to happen happened. Fred Weasley burst out of nowhere, diving before Voldemort with a dramatic, extended 'no'. The spell hit him, predictably, and he fell over in a dead corpse. Voldemort began sobbing.  
  
"Noo mother noo!"  
  
Harry blinked and tried again. "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
Alas, Harry had overlooked one key fact. Due to Lily's love, Harry had been invincible the night his parents died and the spell had reflected onto Voldemort. Now, due to Fred's undying and undeterred love, the spell bounced off Voldemort and hit Harry, who promptly died. Voldemort blinked and touched his forehead. He had a lightning-shaped scar there. He stared.  
  
"Well, thank God for irony." 


	2. I won't have to use my beard!

As word of Harry Potter's death spread throughout the wizarding world, many found themselves overjoyed, strangely.  
  
"Well, thank god," commented Hermione Granger, "Now I can have a lovetriangle with Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy uninterrupted by his constant badgering. 'But Hermione, we're dating!' What was his point?"  
  
Luna Lovegood was among the few who actually cared.   
  
"No I'm not!" Luna exclaimed, glaring at the authors.  
  
Shut up, Luna. Anyway, Luna was horribly distraught over Harry's death. So distraught, infact, she stopped shopping for essentials. As a result, one day, she was talking to her mother on the couch. As all mothers do with their teenage daughters, they were talking about tampons.   
  
"I just love the glow-in-the-dark ones!" Luna's mother, Lana, exclaimed.   
  
It was then it occurred to Luna that there was only one tampon left in the house. With a gasp, she raced upstairs to the bathroom, threw open the cupboard door and gasped – it was GONE!  
  
"I've always wanted one!" A strange voice exclaimed. Luna looked up to see Voldemort clutching the tampon with a strange look in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes of uknown color because J K Rowling doesn't love her.  
  
"Over my dead body, bitch!"   
  
Luna flung herself at The-Person-Who's-Name-Means-Flight-Of-The-Dead and they struggled viciously and erotically. In fact, it could be considered a minor porno flick if it weren't for the fact Luna remained clothed. Suddenly, the tampon flew from Voldemort's grip and as Luna scrambled for it she looked up to see… Albus Dumbledore holding it.  
  
"It's funny," Dumbledore stated, "cause I OLD."  
  
He stroked the tampon. "Finally, something to stop my monthly flow!" Somewhere, crickets chirped. "I won't have to use my beard!"  
  
Alas, there was a kink in Dumbledore's plans. "… Only… MEDIUM absorbency?!" He gasped, before dissapparating to go find a higher-absorbency tampon.   
  
Retreating back to his home-in-an-unknown-area, Voldemort sighed and sat on his bed.  
  
"I really wanted that tampon."  
  
Sniffling, he pulled the blankets over his head and fell asleep. (^~) Several hours later, he sat up in bed, breathing heavily.  
  
"OH NOOO! I DREAMT THAT THE KIDS ON THE PLAYGROUND STOLE MY TEDDY-TEDDY BOOBOO BEAR! My scar hurts."  
  
Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and went to the kitchen for some nice sardines and prune juice. He walked to the kitchen and rummaged around in the fridge, when he heard a noise in the living room.  
  
"Gasp. Maybe it's SANTA!"  
  
Running into the living room, what he saw rendered him impotent for 2 years.  
  
"AHH! PETER!"  
  
Sitting in Voldemort's personal hot tub was Peter Pettigrew, half-naked, clutching a butterbeer in one hand and his..er...Willie in the other.  
  
Wink, wink. "HEYYY VOLDEY. Come on in, the waters fine."  
  
"No. That's it. I've told you a thousand times not to do that in my hot tub, or ANYWHERE in here for this matter. I'm moving out. I'm tired of being evil all the time! I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED!"  
  
And with that, Voldemort rushed out of the room, tears running down his widdle face. Several moments later, he ran back out with a trunk full of..stuff, flung open the front door, and ran outside.  
  
"DOES THIS MEAN I CAN HAVE YOUR PORN?" Peter ejaculated loudly.  
  
---  
  
Luna stepped into the Great Hall, taking a deep breath and exclaiming loudly, "I AM AROUSED." Everyone ignored her because they were too busy staring ahead waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. Dumbledore stepped up to the  
  
table at the head of the hall and opened his mouth, and as he did so, the entire room fell silent.  
  
"I regret to inform you all that the Sorting Hat was lost in a horrible accident several nights ago. It is difficult to find another hat on such short notice, so I have contacted our alien friends from the planet Xdhadrgsnorf. They have kindly agreed to let us use their  
  
Sorting Anal Probe. So, let the sorting begin!"  
  
On the stage, the curtains drew back, revealing a probey lookin' thing sitting on a stool. Flying into the air, it waited for someone to call the first years up. Yes, I know it is supposed to sing a clever rhyming song. But I am too lazy. Snape took the stage, a long scroll in his hand. Clearing his throat, he said,  
  
"Some of these names are er....foreign. I'm sure the first years would appreciate if you do NOT make fun of their names. First years, line up as I call your names, and then the sorting shall begin."  
  
Blushing, Snape looked down at the list, his eyes widening, and began to read.  
  
"Smel E. Bajina.  
  
Harry Balsonya.  
  
Master Bates.  
  
Thro Binhed.  
  
Seymore Butts.  
  
Weibo Cliqueinheimer.  
  
Tranz Exual.  
  
Howse Feltersnatch.  
  
Vyai Gra.  
  
Harry Groin.  
  
Olga Haha.  
  
Shemakmi Hardenn.  
  
Webster Harris.  
  
Mike Hawke.  
  
Ida Ho.  
  
Ima Ho.  
  
Amanda Hugandkiss."  
  
Snape paused, looking at the first years. "AMANDA HUGANDKISS? COULD I HAVE AMANDA HUGANDKISS?"   
  
Draco Malfoy lept up from the Slytherin table, arms flailing wildly. "Me! Me! PICK ME!"  
  
Snape stared blankly. "..."  
  
The rest of the school stared blankly. "..."  
  
Draco sat down quietly. From a group of first years, a strangely .... matured blonde shoved her way out. "I'm here, I'm here." She glared daggers at Draco before storming up to take her place behind the Hos. Snape continued on with the list.  
  
"Mike Hunt.  
  
Hauwood Jablowme.  
  
Thepi Ll.  
  
Grabin Mabals.  
  
Lickan Maipenais.  
  
Phil McCrack.  
  
Pat N. McCrotch.  
  
Breasty McLarge.  
  
Jack Mehoff.  
  
Fuk Mi.  
  
Hardenn Mibahlz.  
  
Ruben Miballz.  
  
Fookan Misalf.  
  
Craven Moorehead.  
  
Holden MuhGroin.  
  
Cumi Ngo.  
  
Pointay Nipal.  
  
Seymour Nipul.  
  
Dixie Normous.  
  
Jack Officer.  
  
Pat Pat.  
  
Kahns T. Pation.  
  
Thera Pist.  
  
Dixie Rect.  
  
Hugh G. Resctson.  
  
Arou Sed.  
  
Tuchmi Self.  
  
Sover Yhorne.  
  
Fuk Yu."  
  
AND THUS, THE SORTING BEGAN!   
  
Smel, who looked terribly disturbed and frightened of the fluttering Sorting Probe, blinked, paling.   
  
"Damnit, I don't have time for this. I have to get back to making love to Dumbledore," Snape hissed, giving the boy a shove. Smel gulped and stepped behind the curtain, which closed promptly.  
  
There was a pause, before:  
  
"OH SWEET MERCIFUL LORD! WHY? WHYYYY? AHHHHHH! NOOOO! OH GOD NO! THE PAIN! AHHHHHHH! MY ANUS! MY ANUS!"  
  
Suddenly the curtains flung open and Smel fell fowards, a large stamp on his ass reading "HUFFLEPUFF." Snape grinned and patted Harry Balsonya's shoulder. "You're up next!" He said with an uncharacteristic and slightly sadistic smile.  
  
There was a beat, before...  
  
"AHHHHHHH!"  
  
The first-years scatered.   
  
"Goddamnit!" Exclaimed Dumbledore loudly, "Motherfucking motherfuckers!"  
  
The entire staff stared at Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"... Um... life is a great... mystery full of ... mysteries."  
  
Everyone was marveled by his wisdom and quickly forgot of his swearing. This, unfortunately, did not stop the problem of the scattering. Reacting fast, the rest of the staff dashed up to Snape and looked over his shoulder, calling out names on the list.  
  
"Has anyone seen a Pointay Nipal?" Professor Sprout called loudly. Pansy Parkinson pointed towards the Gryffindor table at Ginny. Ginny promptly flicked her off.  
  
"Anyone know where Mike Hawke is?" Professor McGonagall asked.   
  
"Is anyone here Pat N. McCrotch?" Asked Professor Snape. Don't ask why he suddenly has 'professor' infront of his name. I would call him Severus if I weren't so damned lazy.  
  
Hermione sprung up. "Me!"  
  
Everyone stared at Hermione.  
  
"Well, I'm not /him/," Hermione explained, "but he's over there."  
  
Everyone was greatly relieved.   
  
"I need a Vyai Gra!" Dumbledore called. Crabbe and Goyle burst into hysterics, which got them a quick blow to the head from Draco.  
  
"Erectile dysfunction is nothing to laugh at," he snarled.  
  
... The entire Slytherin table burst into hysterics.  
  
"AT LEAST MY DADDY LOVES ME!" Draco called before storming out of the room. Everyone stared, blinked, and shrugged. 


End file.
